Petrichor

Before death closes my eyes,
The last thing I wish to see is you.
so that when the mud covers my face and
The soil grows dark and endless, your face will be the only light I carry.

The petrichor will smell like you.
The rain will whisper your name as it falls on my
stone heart.

Let me see your eyes one last time—
They will be my heaven under the weight of the earth.

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